Life in 2Fort
by Phantom35
Summary: A look at day-to-day life in 2Fort, focusing primarily on the RED Team.


A/N: This is my first fic, and I have to say I didn't plan on posting this at all until I was halfway through this chapter. It was just very tempting to me to try and write something for TF2.

A few points. First off, I'm new to TF2. I'm a 'freeper', though I might buy something from the store eventually. I can play well enough to be useful in a game when i play the few classes I'm good at (Engie doesn't really count. He can rack up kills impressively without too much player effort, and that's not quite the same thing as actually being good at playing the class, I think.), but there are some things I'm still learning. A lot of things, in fact. There are some things I 'know' how to do, but haven't practiced enough to do reliably. The point is, I don't think I'm likely to make a huge error in what any of these classes are capable of, but if I do, just let me know. At the same time, I might take a few liberties with some things.

One last thing before I let this author's note become longer than the chapter itself: I know this chapter has a lot of asides and tangents, because I'm trying to introduce the situation all at once, and I'm not sure how well it reads. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated. If enough people like this, I'll try to continue this. If I do, the story will focus on most of the team, not just the few classes seen in this chapter.

* * *

><p>The BLU Pyro was marching around the base dutifully, occasionally spraying a short blast of flame into the more obvious spy hiding-places. It looked up with a sigh at the dimmed lighting of the little hallway just outside of the intel room. It was past midnight, and the war had quieted down. There was an unspoken agreement to keep up a cease-fire at night, allowing everyone a bit of peace.<p>

This particular Pyro was a recent addition to the team, after the last had accepted an offer of retirement due to extremes of stress and paranoia making it a liability to the team. At least, that was the generally accepted theory among both teams. In fact, the previous pyromaniac had left 2Fort in a black, presumably fire-proofed helicopter, and the only explanation was its own muffled speech, filled with cheer and manic laughter for the full day before the event.

RED Spy knew this. The BLU Demoman had been left in his room the day of the Pyro's leaving, drunk to the point of illucidity, if not unconciousness, so it was easy enough for him to take up the disguise and serve the drinks at the Pyro's very confusing celebration. He shuddered at the memory of the swill the Demo was so fond of. Keeping up the disguise meant he had been forced to take several exaggerated drinks from a bottle, though he was careful not to swallow enough to get himself drunk.

Spy was the only member of the RED Team who regularly infiltrated the enemy base after cease-fire. A few slip-ups meant that most of the BLU team at least suspected this, but Spy was careful. He didn't do any stabbing or sapping at night, and he certainly didn't try to take any of their intelligence, which would immediately set of an alarm. Besides, the stuff was booby-trapped with some technology that interfered with his cloak and disguise kits. What he did do was simple: he spied on the enemy team. He knew half of them by name, and had a decent grasp on their personalities.

He knew the exact brand name of the scrumpy their Demoman liked, the names their Heavy used for his guns, as well as their soldier's uniquely demented understanding of the world. (Granted, both soldiers were so utterly insane that documenting the specifics of their dementia was little more than an academic exercise.) Most importantly, he knew with great detail the guard habits of their Pyro.

Not knowing their Scout's middle name might arouse suspicion. Getting the name of the Heavy's guns wrong might blow his cover and force him to use one of his myriad escape plans. Making a mistake regarding where the Pyro was and what it was doing could very easily lead to a very painful death. The Spy, for a number of reasons, would not last more than a few seconds in front of a flamethrower, and his cloak and disguise kits were useless if he happened to be a walking bonfire with the enemy team on high alert.

So tonight, he was putting all of his effort into learning a bit about the new Pyro. The espionage was easier than usual, since this team member was so new. Any other member of the BLU team would know that the Engineer left his sentry unguarded at night, for the specific reason that it was never sapped after cease-fire and that he needed sleep. He leaned against the wall, cornered by the enormous sentry gun in front of him and the BLU dispenser to his left, blocking an otherwise opportune location to wait for a backstab. The Engineer had learned about that little weakness the hard way, leaving the intel unguarded for the twenty-four hours or so the respawn machine had taken.

The Pyro walked in casually, stepping close to the dispenser and closer to the disguised spy, refilling his enormous flamethrower's ammunition. A week ago, with the previous Pyro, the spy would have sapped the sentry and opened fire, or cloaked and ran at the mere sight of the flame-master stepping through the doorway, knowing there was no way it would go without spy-checking. Instead he stood up a little straighter and extended his hand.

The walking toaster oven shook hands with the engineer, relieved at the excuse for a short break. Within a few days, it would probably learn that the real engineer had a metal hand underneath his glove, and retroactively realize what had happened. Or perhaps it would simply believe it had misremembered, since there was no sig the spy had actually done anything hostile. It said something that was very thoroughly muffled, and it took him a moment to translate. "Is night-watch always this dull?" was the most likely intention.

The Texan sighed and answered, "I hear ya. It's got to be done, though. S'long as I'm here, spies can't sap my sentry, and with you walking around it's dangerous for them, so they usually don't try. As long as we're doin' our job, they prob'ly won't try anythin' in the first place." This was believable enough, and partially true. The spy could probably manage to backstab this Pyro when he left- it wasn't remotely thorough with its spy-checking- and then come back and sap the machines, and then get the intelligence back to his base.

The night-watch was not sufficient to stop him before he could get away. But if he did such things after cease-fire, they would start to put up a much more effective defense, and it would no longer be possible for him to 'study' them. Not only would that be a serious setback in his job, he knew that he would actually miss some of his interactions with them. The BLU scout was slightly more polite than RED's, and their Medic had a much less disturbing bedside manner. Their spy was something of a friendly rival, though also much more ruthless than himself.

The RED Spy watched as the rejuvenated Pyro walk back out of the room, and decided two things. One: That this Pyro was, for now, very easy to deal with, though that would change with experience. And two: that it was a somewhat agreeable fellow, and a little easier to understand than the previous BLU fire-breather. RED Spy was different from most, but not all of the other members on each side in that he treated the entire war as something of a game. This standpoint was made slightly less disturbing by the respawn machines, which made it very difficult to kill someone for any longer than a day, and virtually impossible to put them out of comission for more than a week. As such, he was not particularly opposed to the thought of considering his opponents as pleasant acquaintances, during the off-hours where they weren't stabbing, shooting, torching, bludgeoning, and detonating each other.

* * *

><p>The Spy stood behind the wall of the Battlements, watching the RED Sniper clean his gun. It was still too early for the war, but Sniper liked to watch the sunrise. Spy opened his mouth to speak and was immediately interrupted. "If yer the BLU Spy, I recommend you shoot yerself and save us both the trouble. If yer the RED Spy, I request that you shoot yerself and save us both the trouble."<p>

"And I reccomend you save it for the other team, lest I decide that the headaches you provide outweigh the headshots you provide." He was tired, and not willing to continue a typical discussion with the Sniper. Fortunately, it seemed to be mutual today.

"Do ya have any news, mate? Or were ya too busy playin' pranks on their engineer?"

"Nothing important to someone who stays up here. They have a new Pyro." This startled the Australian sniper into paying attention. It was significant when new team members came to the other team, because their behavior was often unpredictable, and they sometimes had tricks up their sleeves that couldn't be anticipated. "It has a weapon I have not seen before- something it keeps in the holster the previous lunatic used for its shotgun."

"Well don' keep me in suspense, mate. What was it?" The hostility was gone now that something of significance was in the air.

"It showed it off a bit, but I'm afraid I couldn't decipher much of it. In any case, it was clearly inexperienced, so we should not have too much trouble from it." Sniper just grunted and turned to the battlefield, dissatisfied with this information, and the sound of spy's cloak served as the only goodbye. The sounds of the Heavy's minigun, the Medic's medi-gun, and the scout's less-than-civil taunting served as warning that today's battle was about to start.


End file.
